Qin's Moon: Yang Shi's Long Song

Two days before Gai Nie arrived in Xinzheng, Yang Hui went to the West Market in the evening.

He had no intention of buying anything. He just wanted to take a look—to see the younger brother of the city gate sergeant, the old fishmonger. The last time he saw him was on a rainy day; he bought a crucian carp and overheard him say, "My brother can't sleep at night." This time, he wanted to confirm one last time whether that secret agent was still there before Gai Nie entered the city.

The West Market is busiest in the evening. People packing up, sweeping, and rushing to make their last sale create a noisy, bustling scene. Yang Hui entered from the entrance, avoiding the densest crowds, and walked along the edges of the stalls. The fish-selling area was quieter than last time; two of the three stalls had already closed, leaving only the old man's stall. He was emptying the remaining water from his wooden basin and then wiping the rim with a rag.

Yang Hui walked past the old man's stall without stopping. He first walked past the old man's stall, then paused in front of the empty vegetable stall next door, seemingly looking at the few remaining vegetable leaves on the ground. Then he turned around, as if "casually" walking back, and stopped a meter away from the old man's stall, saying nothing, just looking at the wooden basin.

The old man straightened up and saw it was him. He didn't greet him or shoo him away. He just glanced at him, draped the rag he was carrying over the rim of the basin, and said, "Are you still buying fish?"

Yang Hui said, "I'm not buying anything today."

"If you're not going to buy anything, don't stand here. Helping too much will cause gossip."

The old man spoke in a low voice, continuing to wipe the rim of the basin, as if he were just saying it casually while working. Yang Hui stood still. He noticed that the old man's back was bent even lower than last time—not just a bending motion, but "he couldn't straighten up completely even when he did." It seemed like he had lost weight recently, or hadn't been sleeping well lately.

Yang Hui didn't respond to the comment, "Helping too many people will lead to gossip." He took a copper coin from his pocket, placed it on the edge of the stall, and said, "You gave me too much change for that fish last time."

The old man looked up at him. He glanced at the copper coin for a couple of seconds, then reached in, took it, and put it in his apron pocket. He didn't say, "I didn't give you extra change," nor did he say, "You've got it wrong." After loading the wooden basin onto the cart, he squatted down to tidy up the fishing nets and hooks lying on the edge of the cart, as if he were cleaning something. His lips moved slightly; Yang Hui was five steps away, but he heard the words clearly. The old man said, "He's being transferred."

Yang Hui stopped in his tracks. He stood there without turning around or looking back at the old man. The old man's voice continued, low as if he were talking to himself: "They said there's a rotation. I don't know when we'll leave, maybe at the end of the month, maybe earlier."

Which door should we go through?

"He didn't say."

Yang Hui stood there, watching the market gradually thin out in the twilight, the stall owners beginning to turn off their lights, pack up their carts, and lock up. He turned his head to look at the old man's shadow bent beside his cart and said, "Before he's transferred, tell him—if he passes by the city gate at night, don't look into the puddles at the base of the wall."

After tidying up the fishing net, the old man straightened up and replied in a low voice, "I don't know anything. I sell fish."

Yang Hui took in his last two words and turned to leave. Dusk had already fallen when he reached the entrance to the West Market; the lanterns at the street corner had just been lit, their orange-yellow light reflecting on the damp stone slabs. He didn't look back on his way back to Zilan Pavilion, but he walked a little faster than when he had come.

He mentally processed the information: "The city gate sergeant might be transferred before the end of the month. Gai Nie will enter the city the day after tomorrow, which is enough time. But he needs to push that gate open once before it closes."

When he returned to the back door of Zilan Pavilion, he paused at the kitchen doorway. Zi Nu was chopping scallions by the stove. Without turning her head, she asked, "Almost there?"

"the day after tomorrow."

"Then finish saying what you have to say tomorrow."

"I've already said that."

Zi Nu stopped wielding her sword and glanced at him sideways. "Which sentence were you referring to?"

"Don't look into the puddle."

Zi Nu turned back to continue chopping scallions and didn't ask any more questions.